


Traditions, Old and New

by as_with_a_sunbeam



Series: Modern AU [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Allergies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, christmas trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 05:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16988907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/as_with_a_sunbeam/pseuds/as_with_a_sunbeam
Summary: Eliza and Alexander are excited to pick out their first Christmas tree as a couple, and Alexander’s first real Christmas tree ever. The results, unfortunately, are far from romantic.__A modern hamliza au





	Traditions, Old and New

The blare of a car horn from the crowded intersection across from the tree lot drew Eliza’s attention away from the corner she’d been watching for the past fifteen minutes. A driver three cars back from the light was gesticulating madly. She glanced down at her watch to check the time, bouncing on the balls of her feet to keep warm. Alexander was late, as per usual. Adjusting her gaze back to the corner, she rubbed her hands together and blew into them, hoping to encourage some warmth back into her fingertips and nose. Lazy snowflakes drifted down in the orange glow of the streetlight, which had just flickered to life.

A figure bundled up in a black overcoat with a gray wool hat and red scarf covering the better part of his face appeared around the corner behind a group of giggling teenage girls. Eliza rose up on her toes again to wave in an effort to attract attention through the bustling crowds. Alexander noticed her a beat later and waved back, the extra material on the gray mitten she’d knitted him flopping ridiculously over his fingers. His pace quickened, and she could see from the crinkles around his eyes that he was grinning at her.

“You’re late.”

His eye crinkles remained even as he apologized, voice muffled through the thick fabric of his scarf. “Sorry. My meeting ran over. But I’m here now, ready to haul your choice of evergreen all the way back to our four story walk up.”

She played at severe a moment longer, before breaking out into a grin and tugging him after her into the crowded lot. The beautiful, clean scent of pine surrounded her, sending her straight back to her childhood home, surrounded by the warmth of family and her mother’s famous Christmas cookies. “Mm. Is there any better smell than fresh pine at Christmas?”

“I don’t smell anything.”

“Of course not, with that scarf over half your face,” she laughed, turning back to pull it down past his chin. “There, now try.”

He gave an exaggerated sniff, which made her laugh. “Not bad.”

She gave him a playful shove. “Not bad? That’s a thousand times better than that big hunk of plastic you wanted to put up in our apartment.”

“I’m not against getting a real tree. I’ve just never had one before.”

His expression fell ever so slightly, just enough for Eliza to wonder where his thoughts had wandered. Back to his childhood, perhaps, or to his first years in New York without family or money to make a real Christmas tree possible. When they’d first moved in together, she’d seen his small, flimsy cardboard box labelled ‘x-mas’ in shaky sharpie; even so, when she’d opened it up last week, she’d been shocked to see how paltry his decorations were: a string of colored lights, a crooked star, and a pack of cheap plastic red and blue orbs, all jumbled together atop that horrible fake tree.

“I know, honey.” She squeezed his hand. “Let’s go pick out your first real Christmas tree.”

They shuffled through the crowds towards the first line of trees. Alexander paused beside the first one in the line: a short, scrawny, half-bald tree with brown needles littering the ground all around it. “What about this one?”

She tilted her head to the side, her nose wrinkling as she appraised his choice. With a sharp shake of her head, she declared, “Too short and skinny. I’m not even sure it’s alive.”

“That’s a little harsh. Poor tree.”

“This is important. You can’t just pick any old tree.”

His lower lip jutted out slightly as he ran his thumb over one of the branches, causing a cascade of fragile green needles to fall. “What if no one picks it? Then it won’t have a home for Christmas.”

She frowned at him, unsure if he was serious. When she saw the corners of his lips twitching upwards, she rolled her eyes. “You just want it because it won’t be heavy to carry.”

“Possibly.”

“Come on, Charlie Brown.” He laughed. “We’re looking for a tree that’s tall, fat, and, ideally, still alive.”

“Tall, fat, alive,” he repeated. “Got it.” 

She glared back at him over her shoulder, still towing him along behind her. “I know when you’re making fun of me.”

His expression was all wide-eyed innocence. “I would never. Tree selection is a serious business.”

She made a face at him, prompting him to stick his tongue out at her in return.

His face softened a moment later, though, and he added sincerely, “I am taking this seriously, you know. I never had the chance to go pick out a tree when I was a kid, the way you and your family did. This feels really special to me, like we’re starting a new family tradition, just the two of us. It means a lot.”

He gave an endearing little shrug when he finished, as if to dismiss the emotion of the moment, even though she could see a blush coloring his cheeks. Good Lord, he was cute. She leaned in to him to press a kiss to his lips.

 “Let’s go look towards the back,” she encouraged, seeking the lighten the mood. “Our living room ceiling is more than seven feet, right?”

He gave a comical groan, but obediently tagged along behind her towards the taller trees in the back. They browsed through the rows, turning each selection side to side to try to judge the fullness. The light snow was just beginning to dust the branches when Alexander called out once more, “Hey, Bets? What about this one?”

Turning towards him, she watched him spin his selection one way, then the other. Taller than him by a good foot and full enough to brush the trees on either side of it, this tree was much more to her taste. “Perfect.”

He looked inordinately pleased with himself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed.

**

Half an hour later, Alexander was looking much less pleased. Eliza could see sweat beading on his brow, despite the cold winter air and the fact that he’d stripped off his hat, scarf, and mittens almost immediately. She was keeping the top of the tree from dragging on the ground, but she had to admit that he was doing the lion’s share of the heavy lifting. 

“Almost there,” she called encouragingly. “Just around the corner.”

“And up four flights,” he grumbled, adjusting his grip for the umpteenth time. “This thing weighs a ton.”

“It’ll be worth it.”

“Mm,” he hummed skeptically. Then he sniffled, inhaled sharply twice, and let out a tremendous sneeze. Pausing, he turned his head into the shoulder of his overcoat and sneezed wetly twice more.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks.”

They inched along around the corner to their building, and wrestled the tree into the narrow entryway before mounting the first staircase. Alexander’s breath was coming in ragged pants by the second flight. Another round of sneezing came just as they started up the third.

“Bless you,” she repeated.

He grunted.

“Are you coming down with a cold?”

“I hope not,” he replied. “I don’t know what’s going on. I felt fine all day.”

“Do you want to take a break?”

He turned his head to the side to sneeze again, then shook his head. “Let’s just get it upstairs.”

Together, they maneuvered the unwieldy tree through the hallway and into the apartment, where the tree stand was set up and waiting. He laughed when he went to set the tree upright, only for the top branch to brush against the ceiling. “I don’t think our star is going to fit.”

“It just needs a little trimming,” she assured him. “It’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

Once the tree was secured in the stand, Alexander rose and stood beside her to see the result. The top branch was bent at an angle against the ceiling, and the tree was fat enough to take up a good portion of their living room, even with the branches not yet having fallen. Still, he gave an approving nod. “You were right. Worth it.”

She grinned at him. “Told you.”

His nose wrinkled, and he turned away to sneeze.

“Bless you.”

He rubbed at his nose with a frustrated growl, then scratched at his palm. “You know, the sap is a little itchy. I’m going to go wash my hands. How long until we can decorate?”

“A few hours. I’ll put on a movie while we wait. How about the Grinch?”

“That sounds good,” he agreed, leaning over to kiss her.

Sitting down cross-legged in front of the entertainment center, she opened the cabinet and began to hunt around for their set of classic Christmas films, the tree branches catching slightly at her hair as she did so. The tree might have been a little large for their apartment, she admitted to herself, but it smelled so good, just like her childhood. As she set the DVD in the player and pushed herself up, she heard another string of sneezes coming from down the hall.

“Honey?” She started down the hallway, and could hear the water running in the bathroom as Alexander continued to sneeze repeatedly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered, before letting out another sneeze, then a muted groan.

He’d left the bathroom door partly opened. Pushing it aside, she stopped just inside, her brow wrinkling in concern. Red blotches had appeared on Alexander’s face and hands, and his eyes looked red and watery. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” he groaned. “I’m itchy all over, and I can’t stop sneezing.”

“God, sweetheart, you look like you’re having an allergic reaction.”

“To what?” He glanced back at her, and realization seemed to dawn on them both in the same instant. Shaking his head, he said decisively, “No. I’m fine. It’s probably a cold.”

“Honey,” she protested.

“I said I’m fine,” he repeated. Drying his hands quickly, he added, “Come on. Let’s go watch the movie.”

Reluctantly, she followed him back into the living room. Maybe it was just the sap, she thought, taking a seat beside him on the couch. Now that the tree was all set up, he wouldn’t be touching it anymore. Maybe it would be all right.

As the Whos began their opening song, he let out another series of pitifully congested sneezes. He rubbed at his eyes and scratched his chest miserably as the movie played on, sniffling and sneezing all the while. Then, worst of all, while the Grinch was attempting to slide down the chimney, she heard him making a peculiar sound at the back of his throat. Looking over, she saw his jaw working strangely before he loudly cleared his throat.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just… the back of my throat is a little itchy.”

She sat up quickly, intensely alarmed. “That’s it. We’re getting rid of the tree.”

“No.”

“This isn’t a debate. Your throat is closing up.”

“It’s not closing up.” He waved a rash-covered hand at her dismissively. “It’s just a little tickle. I’m okay.”  

“You’re not okay. You’re breaking out in hives, you’re sneezing constantly, you look terrible—”

“Hey.”

She refused to be charmed by his affronted expression. “I’m really worried about you.”  

“I’ll be fine.” She stared at him seriously until his expression turned from dismissive annoyance to despair. “I don’t want to get rid of the tree.”

She sighed, and decided to try for a different tactic. “You at least need allergy medicine. Will you be all right while I run to the store?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“You’re breathing is okay? Your throat doesn’t feel tight or constricted?”

“I’m fine.”  

With his streaming eyes, red nose, and blotchy face, she found it hard to believe him, but she had little choice. Grabbing her coat, purse, and keys, she assured him she’d be right back, and set out for the drug store down the block. When she emerged on the street, she pulled out her phone.

“Angelica? Is John home with you? Great. I need a favor.”

**

Soft Christmas music played in the background as Eliza stood on her tiptoes and carefully balanced the star on the tallest branch of Alexander’s old, fake tree. Lights and garland littered the floor around her, though the carpet was now spotlessly clean of all needles. The smell of fresh pine had been replaced with the green pine-scented candle she’d purchased at the drug store along with Alexander’s allergy medicine.

The sound of footsteps padding down the hall made her look over to see a very drowsy looking Alexander shuffling into the living room. “Hi, sweetheart. I didn’t expect to see you up again tonight. That medicine really knocked you out, huh?”

He hummed in agreement.

“Are you feeling better?”

He wrinkled his nose slightly, then frowned with confusion. “What happened to our tree?”

“I asked Angelica and John to help me move it. The Bruces down the hall from us—you know, with the three kids?” He nodded. “They still needed a tree. We brought it over and got it all set up for them, and then Angelica helped me set up your old tree here.”

His hand ran through his bed-mussed hair as he squinted at her, struggling towards comprehension. “But, why?”

“Honey, that tree almost killed you.”

“I could have taken, you know, the…the pills.” He spoke around a huge yawn as his hand gestured vaguely towards the kitchen, where she’d left the opened box of allergy pills.

“We can’t keep you hopped up on Benadryl for the entire month of December. Look at you. You’d sleep straight through to Christmas.” 

“They have non-drowsy pills,” he argued. “We were supposed to have a real tree for our first Christmas together.”

“Well, we have this one instead.”

“You said you hated the fake one. That it wasn’t Christmas without real, big tree in the living room, like your family always used to have.”

She shrugged. “I like having you around a lot more than I like having a real tree.”

A slight smile played at edges of his mouth. “You do?”

“Uh, yeah,” she confirmed with an exasperated sigh. “I love you, honey. I love the life we’re starting together. We’re going to make all kinds of new traditions, and if one of those is having an artificial tree, then that’s wonderful, so long as I’m decorating it with you.”

His smile started to go a little goofy as she spoke, and she thought she saw his eyes brighten slightly. But then he gave another yawn, and said sheepishly, “I think I’m too sleepy to decorate tonight.”

“That’s okay. I’m just going to finish putting on the lights. We can decorate tomorrow.”

He padded over to the couch as she began twisting the string of lights around the tree. By the time she plugged them in, she could hear him snoring. She flipped off the lights, leaving the living room illuminated by the soft white glow of the tree lights and the flickering of the pine-scented candle on the coffee table. Settling beside him on the sofa, she slipped her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“Mm. Love you,” he mumbled, resting his head against her. 

“I love you, too,” she whispered back. Snuggling against him, she noted with relief that his rash seemed to have disappeared, though he still sounded terribly congested. She relaxed against him, adjusting to study the artificial tree as the instrumental section of an old Christmas carol swelled in background.

Really, it wasn’t such a bad little tree after all, she decided.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt on tumblr, which requested Alexander finding out he's allergic to Christmas trees early on in his relationship with Eliza. It felt like a nice, sweet, and Christmas-y story to do for today. (Happy 238th anniversary, Ham & Eliza!!) 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!!


End file.
